Battle Field
by JayJayGinge
Summary: The order are always being sent into battle; trying to win the war one mess of rubble and loss of life at a time. And this time Draco has been kept at the safe-house, leaving Hermione to fend for herself on the battle field and keep a promise. (One-shot)


**_BATTLE_**

Hermione Granger gripped her wand tighter in her hand as she crouched behind the wall, forcing herself to breath regularly. In. Out. In. Out. The smooth wooden object provided some familiarity and security, soothing her as she gritted her teeth and prepared to throw herself back out there; into the bloody mass of violence and flashing lights. She didn't know how long she'd been fighting in this battle for, but it certainly felt like hours. Her body ached and she was covered in slashes and blood-not all of it hers. Skin was flapping open in some areas and the bitter wind stung like ice against warm skin as it attempted to crawl inside the wounds. The sound of curses and spells flying through the air rang all around her, mingling awfully with the shrieks of terror and pain that they caused. And the stench of death flooded her nostrils. The only thing she could be grateful for was that the Order had managed to make Draco stay at Grimmauld Place; deciding that his health wasn't improved enough from his last battle. He was safe. He was safe. Hermione chanted this to herself, holding back tears.

Sucking in a deep breath and tensing her muscles, she leapt up.

Hermione threw herself out from behind the low wall she had found. Up here she could see the battle again-she was once more part of it. The mist parted; the foggy grey substance scurrying for safety as she flung a bright pink hex forward into a Death Eater that had tried to dart behind a fallen wall in the distance. Hermione heard a yell of pain and a thud as he hit the floor. But she gritted her teeth and dove for the pile of rubble beside her; moving ever forward, trying to drown out every noise. These people couldn't be given a second of thought or sympathy-it could destroy her. So she gave over to her instincts, ducking down and searching the surrounding area for other dangers. A figure to her far left called out a spell with a harsh growl as a jet of crimson exploded from their wand, briefly lighting up the area. Casting a glance at them, she saw only a flash of bright red hair against the miserable monochrome battle field before they ducked out of her sight. It was a Weasley. Fred and George were here-so was Charlie. But she had lost them almost the second the fight had begun. Allowing herself a moment to pray for their safety, she lifted herself above the pile of destroyed wall and surveyed her area again.

Spells were erupting everywhere, different colours flashing through the mist to light up an area before being engulfed once again by the smoke of destruction. A dark figure caught her eye as it sprinted away through the wreckage and swirling dust. No one seemed to be on their trail. Hermione shot up and went after them, scanning every turn for threats.

Her target was swift and wove easily through the debris; unlike her. Frequently she slammed into walls after taking a corner too quickly or tripped over piles of rubble as she tried to gain some ground. But one less enemy in this battle meant a greater chance of returning home; which meant a greater chance of getting back to Draco. And she had promised him. So each time she got close enough, she fired a spell-aiming for their head.

A loud blast sounded from beside her as a wall was ripped open-bricks and dust and dirt spraying outwards-and Hermione was thrown sideways from the force of it. Her body slammed into the ground and her chest felt tight as she lay there, struggling for breath. Every inch of her begged to be set free; pleaded with her to remain on the floor and wait for something else to finish her off. But she couldn't. She had promised.

Cursing Draco and his idiotic plea, Hermione pushed herself painfully away from the ground; away from the temptation to stay and wither.

But in a battle, no one is ever fast enough. And there isn't enough time for even a moment's lapse in concentration.

A flaring light and a searing pain met her arm as she finally found herself on her feet. The right side of Hermione's body jerked backwards from the force of a jinx and she gripped her wand-both in pain and preparation for retribution. Gritting her teeth again, she whipped her head around to face the attacker. They weren't dressed in the usual Death Eater clothes. This woman was simply wearing robes, fitted slightly to prevent her from tripping as she ran. Her blonde hair had been scraped back from her face and a ferocious snarl was pointed at Hermione.

The woman raised her wand again, barking out "Confringo!" and causing deep orange flares to leap from the tip of her wand, swirling through the air in a motion that would have been beautiful had it not been intending to set someone alight. Hermione threw herself to the side, bracing her arms as she hit a wall and narrowly dodged the attack. Pain shot through her body and her bones shook from the impact but she wasted no time. Hermione shoved herself back onto her feet, spun away again and fired a shaky spell at the woman.

The two continued like this for a brief time-but it felt like hours. Each of them darting behind one wall and the next, crouching behind piles of debris and spinning uncontrollably out of the way of a fatal spell. Hermione had hit her head at some point; she couldn't recall it happening but blood was pouring down the side of her face-some of it entering her mouth and causing her to frequently spit onto the ground. Flashes of light and sound and pain all mixed together in a wild concoction of rage. And all the while the only tangible thought Hermione had was _Draco_ whirring uncontrollably around in her head full of agony and screaming.

Feeling that her strength was rapidly failing, Hermione mustered up all of her willpower and raised her throbbing arm.

"Reducto!" She spat and a blast of white travelled through the air, hitting the woman in the chest and hurling her backwards. Managing a sick grin, Hermione watched as the woman's body flew through the air; robes billowing after her. But in a last attempt, green light left the wand tip of the woman and raced desperately towards Hermione. Her chocolate eyes widened as the impact sliced through her abdomen.

A burning pain erupted there and she groaned, lowering a hand to the place of impact and slumping against the nearest wall. Hermione's hand felt sticky and warm but she didn't want to look. She didn't have to. It felt as though all of the blood in her body had left its designated station, all of it speeding towards the gaping slash through her skin; naively believing it would help to gather there. Or maybe it just wanted out as well. Out of her. Out of this place. Out of this war. Hermione didn't blame it. She wanted the same, to be far from here; to be somewhere safe with the people she cared for.

Knowing her strength would soon be gone anyway, Hermione slid down the supporting wall and dropped to the floor with a dull thud. She had failed. All that Draco had asked of her was to come back, alive. Now she'd most likely be returning in a body bag-if anyone actually found her. There would be several dead sent home today.

A throbbing began in her head, deep and demanding; drowning out the sounds of fighting and death, of screams and pain. And yet, she had to talk to Draco. One more time or she wouldn't forgive herself.

It was a long shot-Hermione knew that-but she had to at least _try_.

Mustering what strength she could, Hermione angled her body to the side and reached into her pocket to pull out a phone. She was probably the only one in this battle that had one; no one else saw the use for them. But she had figured out the perfect reason for carrying one-at all times.

Flicking through her pathetically tiny list of contacts, she easily found the number that she needed and called. The pleasant ringing sound that the phone emitted was an irritating contrast to the battle raging around her. _Ring ring_ , a blast. _Ring ring_ , a scream. _Ring, ring_ , someone could be dead. And all she could do was sit and listen to that incessant sound while the blood was pouring from her stomach, draining the life from her. Because she would listen to it for as long as she could-whether it annoyed her or not-in the hopes that Draco would pick up the call on the other end.

She had given Draco a phone of his own a few months ago, nothing fancy or too high-tech. Just something to make sure they could reach each other whenever they needed to. But it wasn't a flawless plan. After showing him how to use it to answer her calls and contact her himself, Hermione had felt rather confident and secure with the knowledge that they could stay in contact during battles or separation. But where Hermione had grown up with phones being almost commonplace, Draco had not. He wasn't in the habit of carrying a phone with him wherever he went. And so he often left it in his room at the Safe House or lying abandoned on the kitchen table; making her uncertain about reaching him. Hermione waited, pushing the phone against her ear.

But the phone soon went to voicemail. A droning woman told Hermione to _leave a message_. But a message wasn't good enough, not nearly good enough.

A pair of Death Eaters sprinting past her pitiful hiding place caused Hermione to freeze. She couldn't let them kill her, not yet. But when they had passed from her sight, followed by a few more yelling figures and blasts of dangerous light, Hermione tried again; urgently clutching the phone to her ear with one hand and holding the other across her bleeding wound. Her shirt and jacket were drenched in the sticky, red substance now. There was no avoiding it.

It rang for a while before going to voicemail _again_. There was another blast, closer this time, and bits of debris flew over Hermione's safe wall, showering around her and hitting her feet with tiny thuds. Tears began to fill her eyes as she tried again. She couldn't give up-it wasn't as if she could do much else anyway, even if she wasn't frantic to hear his voice one last time.

But somehow, she only had to endure the irritatingly cheerful ringing noise once more. It came to a halt and Draco's worried voice called out to her through the tiny device.

Hermione released a shaky sigh of relief-which caused a flash of white hot pain in her wound-and pressed the phone harder against her ear, desperately trying to drown out the sound of fighting and death that surrounded her as a few rogue tears escaped her eyes.

"Hermione?" He repeated, fear lacing his tone. Despite her situation, Hermione smiled, shaking as she replied. She felt weak from her large blood loss and the pain that was festering in her stomach, but she tried to push it aside. She couldn't let him know what was happening; it would affect him too badly to know that he couldn't do anything.

"Why didn't you answer your phone you complete arse?" Hermione attempted an angry tone, but it came out too softly and the smile on her face took away any bite the question had.

"I left it on the table, Seamus found it buzzing and gave it to me. Are you alright? Is the fight over?" He responded, sounding suspicious but unable to remove the concern from his voice.

"Yeah I-I'm done." It wasn't a complete lie. Hermione was done, or she would be soon enough. "If you'd stop putting it on silent then Seamus wouldn't have to give it to you, you could answer it on your own."

"The noise it makes annoys me though."

"I've _told_ you a thousand times. You've got alarms set-for some weird reason-just turn them off." Hermione chuckled but an intense pain shot through her stomach, causing her to gasp and hold her wound tighter.

"Hermione?"

"I'm fine."

"Why did you call me if you're fine?"

"Why do you ask so many questions?"

"I'm serious Granger. Tell me what's going on, right now." Draco demanded, the authority that his tone usually possessed reappearing. She could picture him, exactly what he would be doing. He would have been sitting on his bed during the beginning of the conversation-curious but relaxed-but as soon as worry had brought itself into the equation he would have sprung up off the bed. Maybe he had begun pacing when she didn't give him an answer; his desire to do something and take control invading his senses. And now he'd be stood stationary-probably close to the wall-his entire body tense with alarm and his grey eyes wide as he stared at the floor. He'd be in flight mode without anywhere to go.

"I just…" What could she tell him? Her mind seemed to be racing and standing still at the same time; scrambling urgently for the right words to say and coming up completely blank. Like when you search for something that you desperately want in the place that you're sure you saw it last but when you get there, you can't find it. That sinking feeling was currently replaying itself over and over in her stomach, competing with the pain from the wound for her attention. Did she want to tell him the truth? Did he need the truth? Could he handle the truth?

Swallowing dryly, Hermione decided to tell him _a_ truth. Just not _the_ truth.

"I just love you. A lot."

"Well I'm glad, otherwise our entire relationship would be a bit awkward."

Hermione could practically hear the smirk through the phone, travelling from him to her and squeezing a smile from her.

"Prat." She smiled, her vision growing blurry and her head pounding. "But really, I love you." Her last comment came out much firmer than she meant it to. Perhaps the pain was sobering her from the joy of speaking to Draco. Or maybe the blood was taking her cheeriness with her as it exited her body.

There was silence on his end.

Eventually Hermione thought one of them had accidentally ended the call. Pulling the phone away from her face to check and realizing the call was still connected, she became uneasy herself; anxiety filling her up with possibilities. And to make everything worse, the silence dragged.

"Draco?" She tried softly.

"Yeah, I'm here." He mumbled. "Something's wrong though isn't it."

It wasn't a question-he had figured it out. She should've kept the conversation casual.

"What, am I not allowed to just call you to tell you that I love you?" She forced a chuckle.

At the end of her chuckle, a burst of purple lit up the sky above her in a flash-temporarily drowning out the darkness with a misleading surge of light-and was followed by an explosion that erupted from a short distance away. A shrill scream, belonging to a woman, reached her ears before being abruptly cut off by the hissing of a spell. The shriek echoed briefly in the distance, announcing the loss of the woman to the entire battlefield.

Sucking in a breath, Hermione closed her eyes and waited.

"What was that?" Draco demanded.

She didn't reply. What could she tell him?

"Hermione!" He yelled down the phone, rustling and crackling sounds coming from the speakers as he moved the phone too vigorously in his hands. Perhaps he was shaking-or trying not to throw the phone against the wall in rage. Another boom went off behind her; trailed by barked orders and yells of surprise.

"It was n-nothing!" She sniveled, trying to return the shout but being unable to raise her voice as she was overtaken by tears. Hermione was exhausted; her body now leaking both blood and tears, she just wanted to lie down and be held. Her head was swimming and her vision was getting fuzzier by the minute.

Sucking in a breath, she glanced hesitantly down at her wound. It was still bleeding and parts of her jacket had managed to become crusty with dried blood while other areas were still sucking up the fresh gore, allowing it to bloom like flowers across the material. She wouldn't last long.

"Just don't get mad." Hermione whimpered, still staring in partial disbelief at the gaping hole in her flesh.

"What do you mean? Hermione what's going on?" His tone was panicked and his voice was rising swiftly. Hermione focused on his sounds as she allowed the tears to escape her eyes and freely stream down her face; clearing up the grime from the battle that had been covering her.

"Nothing. Everything's fine." She whispered.

"Are you hurt? Is anyone with you? Hermione!" Draco barked, his voice breaking slightly. Yes she was hurt. And no one was with her. But it was too late now to get any help.

Hermione was finding it difficult to keep herself upright now, all of the strength in her body was failing. Failing like she had failed to stay alive and keep her promise. Her stupid promise.

Another blast, another chorus of pain-filled screams, another cascade of falling debris, another dead fighter.

"I'll come and get you, just tell me where you are." He sobbed, finally breaking.

She loved him. She had gotten to speak to him one last time. That was all that she needed for now.

"Don't worry." Hermione smiled, closing her eyes. "It'll be alright."

"No! Hermione don't-"

She pulled the phone away from her ear and pressed the button to end the call. His voice was cut off and a dull beep took his place as she dropped the device to the ground, her arm aching from the effort of holding it up for so long. Her wound didn't hurt anymore. It was still bleeding eagerly but she felt nothing.

Yet another blast sounded in the distance as Hermione-still smiling-slumped sideways onto the floor, allowing herself to finally give up.


End file.
